The USS Endeavour
by RosaS
Summary: The USS Endeavour - a sort of sister ship to the USS Enterprise - has nearly everything ready to go. The slight problem of the ship having no crew overcome, the purpose of the vessel is now intertwined with the adventures of Jim Kirk... the reckless, and generally death-promising adventures, but adventures all the same. Please review, constructive criticism welcomed!
1. Chapter 1

What stood before them was perhaps one of the greatest starships of their era; second only, perhaps, to the USS Enterprise. Polished metal work reflected all of the artificial light at the docking bay, filling all of her engineers with awe, firstly at her beauty, but also at the fact that it was completed in time, and completed so well. Starfleet only dealt with the best engineers available, but creating a starship in the same league as the Endeavour or the Enterprise from scratch needed genius, not just skill. Tools in hand, they all congregated back to the conference room – with a window to view their handiwork.

Now all she needed was a kick-ass crew and we could get started.

Boston, Massachusetts

5 Jan 2245

"Paul Joshua Andrews! I haven't seen you since Christmas before last!"

A blonde haired, blue eyed woman, obviously nearing her sixties, popped out from behind one of the pillars in the airport to greet her son, back from a stint in space on what he would only ever say was 'Starfleet business'.

"Mom, you really don't need to make that much of a fuss, I talked to you on the pad"

"Talking isn't the same as seeing you, my beautiful little boy…"

Paul tried to smile as his mother clung onto him and sobbed for dear life. And as he dragged his suitcase (and overprotective mother) through the terminal to be faced with an even more enthusiastic person in the form of his father, he couldn't help but think 'God, I wish they had another kid as well as me'.

"Are you full? Room for more apple pie?"

"Mom, I'm really, really good."

"So, anything fun happen up there?" his father tentatively pointed up to the sky, as though he needed to be reminded.

"Nah. Being first officer is ok. Captain Matthews sort of knows what he's doing, so I don't really do that much... part of me wants to have some sort of challenge"

"Nonsense, you are my beautiful boy! They are lucky to have someone as clever as you on that ship!"

This time, both Paul and his dad looked at Pamela with raised eyebrows. Not that his dad wasn't proud, he just didn't worship his son as his mother did.

"Pam, you're embarrassing him"

"Oh, shut it, John, I'm just encouraging him!"

"He's 32…"

Paul got up from the sofa, where he was wedged between his doting parents, and made his way to the garage. He idly wondered whether or not his dad still kept a stash of beer in the 'faulty' (well, faulty if Pam was asking) fridge out there, like he did when he was younger. Feeling the wall (somewhat too sensuously) for the light switch, he flicked it on and made his way to the far wall, right corner, toolbox in front of the door.

"Got some xeno-whiskey in the top shelf if you want it"

He turned around to see his dad, smiling and leaning on the door frame.

"I'm good with this, thanks" he raised a brown bottle of… well, whatever it was, it looked like beer. His comm vibrated in his pocket.

"Got an email…" his eyes glanced down at the screen, "from Starfleet High Command… 'Regarding my appointment, if I should so choose to accept it, as Captain of the USS Endeavour, effective 10 January'"

Silence. They both shared glances at each other, and then the comm, each other, the comm, each other…

"OH MY GOD! PASS ME THE WHISKEY"

Needless to say, a good time was had by all that night.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

7 Jan, 2245

"I relieve you of the command of the USS Enterprise…"

"I am relieved"

"Congratulations, Captain James T. Kirk, commanding officer on the USS Enterprise."

After giving Cap- sorry- _Admiral _Pike a hearty handshake, Jim scanned the room happily for the people he could now call _his_ crew. Uhura (Nyota, in case you were wondering – Jim would tell everyone in passing) was smiling and clapping him, whilst Spock applauded only for the polite amount of time beside her, before regaining the classic 'ram-rod up my ass' Vulcan composure. Chekov looked lost, but incredibly excited in the sea of red uniforms, whilst Sulu and Bones were laughing to themselves… 'Probably at my expense' thought Kirk, sniggering internally.

All of this, just for him. Now he knew what his buddy Paul would be going through in only three days' time. Then they really would have that excuse to go out and get hammered, taking in the 'sights' (mainly of nightclub floors) of San Fran. Jim sort of waved at his… 'admirers' and then, once everyone was let loose, he found Bones.

"Bonesy-boy, I'm your captain, now" he grinned, literally until you could hardly see any of his other features at all.

"Ah, I like to see that it hasn't gone to your head already, Jim."

They shared a knowing look; captain or not, Bones wasn't prepared to take any crap from this 'Iowan farm-boy', even if he was his 'bestiest best buddy-man' (as Jim professed on one of their first nights out).

10 Jan, 2245

"I appoint you Captain Paul J. Andrews, of the Starship Endeavour"

Paul smiled as it was all coming together – he was stood in front of the rows of people, all politely clapping his appointment. Heck, even Jim Kirk was in the 'audience' with his new crew. He didn't even think he'd remember or be able to get up in time, but there he was, one of his close academy mates, suited and booted (and not hung-over!).

He'd been quickly briefed on the ins and outs of the ship – its mechanics were easy enough to understand (with the textbooks) and everything was brand spanking new. Nearly all of the ships' crew had been assigned… all except some gaping holes, which Paul preferred not to think about.

At present, he didn't have a first officer. Or a Chief Science Officer. Or a Chief Engineer or Chief Medical Officer. But other than that – brilliant!


	2. Chapter 2

Note from the author: Alas, I do not own Star Trek... but I do own the OCs in this story... so I sorta got that going for me :)

Please review & by all means give hints and tips as to the story and character development. So much appreciated.

* * *

><p><strong>The Search for the Crew<strong>

**Shi'Kahr, Vulcan**

**Earth date: 11 Jan, 2245**

The only sound that resonated through the halls was the whirring of Vulcan minds in unison. This was the Starfleet base on Vulcan, and in comparison to other bases on other planets, it was whitewashed, bare, clinical even. Every now and then, a Terran representative would grace the halls, emotion pouring out of every orifice, gesticulating wildly with their arms and their faces animated with the subject they were so engrossed in. Their Vulcan counterparts, however, were the picture of logic, intelligence and every now and again, had an attitude very reminiscent of arrogance.

This was one of the days where only Vulcans were at the base, generally at their stations calculating equations connected to engineering difficulties or in their labs working on the range of sciences now available to them. Hardly any discussion of their findings or obstacles could be heard by an outsider. They were just… working. As always.

One of these labs happened to specialize in particle physics and astronomy, and sat there at his station like all the others, Commander Sorek turned to his computer as it indicated the of a new message. Ignoring the message for now, he continued to calculate the distance necessary for a vessel of a standard Federation of Planets size from a planet core, given its gravitational pull if this planet had a mass of 1.8986×1027 kg, in order to perform a 'slingshot' manoeuvre to minimize energy waste. Although different from many of his kind in his acceptance of Starfleet, given its perceived non-pacifist nature, Sorek shared an awful lot of 'traditional' Vulcan characteristics. Exceptionally intelligent, highly logical and insufferably stubborn with his beliefs, he also enjoyed… enjoyed? A better way of putting it would be 'was oblivious to' being a fairly good looking male.

After a few hours deliberation over the accuracy of his findings, he turned back to his computer to find the message that had been delivered earlier. Anyone would have said that an eyebrow was raised in surprise, although not in emotion – oh not at all! – Simply in recognition that Starfleet Command had requested that he become the Chief Scientific Officer on board the USS Endeavour, effective immediately, if he should so wish. Closing the message after simply replying that 'to accept the appointment would be the most logical course of action to pursue', he decided that the best course of action would be to pack a few essential effects and to make his way to Earth as soon as possible.

The door slid shut, locking behind him. He was now the second Vulcan to be elevated to Chief Science Officer on a Federation Starship, after Spock, son of Sarek and Lady Amanda, whom he much admired. Sorek never did really understand the uproar over Spock's mixed heritage, surely if one born even slightly outside of the fold, still opts to follow the Vulcan way of being, they are no less Vulcan than the next man? Such a xenophobic sentiment was not only emotional, but worse – illogical!

* * *

><p><strong>London, England<strong>

**11 Jan 2245**

"So… Tom. I mean, you know him, right?"

"Erm…"

"You know, brunette, puts a little too much gel in it – not that I mind, like – blue eyes, cockney accent?"

"Thomas Peterson?"

"See, I told you, I knew you would know him - he works in Engineering! Isn't he lush?"

"Not really my type"

Amy leaned across the table towards her friend – officially a superior – but really, a friend. Amy had the 'advantage' of being a tall blonde, she had men falling over to simply be in her earshot, but luckily, she was far too dozy to notice this and smiled across the table at the shorter, but attractive woman on the other side.

"I'm not supposed to ogle my workforce, Ames!" she laughed, as she rose from the table, tray in hand, to return to the floor below to do some experimental work on a warp core they'd been working on for some time.

Wildly renowned for being an awesome engineer, a pretty good linguist and fiercely intelligent, Ava also had the ever so slight advantage of being a sort-of product of genetic engineering. Way back in the late 2000s, her ancestors were an experiment into making a workforce of long-living, ultra-strong, super-intelligent human beings, but after the first tests were already done, it was banned for ethical reasons. The children of the experiment were born, and lo and behold, enter Ava's ancestors.

As soon as the lift doors opened to the basement, her thoughts flickered towards the core in the middle of the floor. She couldn't help but think 'I sure hope I don't feck this up'. Sure, in theory, everything would be fine, but you never know what's going to happen. She donned some protective goggles and began to work on one of the control panels for manual core temperature control. Lost in her own little world, she only zoned back down to Earth when her comm bleeped, and she crawled out from under the panel to flick it open. Nyota!

"Ny, how are things?"

"Hey, it's pretty good thanks, gonna have to be a quick call, just to tell you I was assigned to the Enterprise… after some gentle persuasion"

Gentle persuasion – a light bulb in Ava's mind lit up; she thought about saying 'so Spock had to be coaxed, did he?' but decided against it, stifling a giggle.

"Congratulations! I didn't even know the Enterprise was operational again – how's Pike?"

"That's the thing. You'll never believe who's captain."

"Well, I'm not surprised Pike bowed out, poor guy had a rough time…"

Ava thought for a while to herself, 'who the heck could succeed someone like Pike? Talk about filling big boots…'

"Wasn't Spock his First Officer?"

"Yeah, but long story short, it didn't go that way…. It's Kirk."

"FUCK OFF" Ava dropped her phone in surprise and only heard laughing on the other end.

"Mr James 'I'll sleep with anything that moves' Kirk? You have got to be kidding me"

"No kidding. Anyway, gotta go. Wish me luck!"

"Good Luck!"

The connection cut off, but Ava still looked at her phone. Oh, Jim Kirk. Lovely guy, rest assured, but Starship Captain? She still remembered the Academy days. Most people did.

Her padd resting on the panel beeped just as she was about to return underneath it. 'Must be Ny telling me it was all a joke…' she thought as she pressed her fingerprint onto the security section of her padd.

Turns out, she had just been made Chief Engineering Officer on the USS Endeavour, effective immediately unless she opted out. Yeah – like that would ever happen! She would be out in space again, and nothing would keep her from that.

* * *

><p><strong>Dublin, Ireland<strong>

**11 Jan 2245**

Dr O'Hara looked absolutely frantic, rushing around the hospital, made especially for Starfleet personnel. And with being in space for a great amount of time, meant no end of infectious disease, parasites and fevers as soon as they hit the ground of any planet in the Federation and beyond. Mix this with an enclosed starship with partially recycled air, and bam! You got yourselves an epidemic and you come crying to the nearest hospital, where good ol' Dr O'Hara will take care of you, and not scold you for not taking extra precautions and certainly wouldn't scold you for jumping into a native lake and not expecting to have a… thing… take a chunk out of you.

"Doctor, we've a new patient with an infected cut of some kind, it's not responding to normal treatment and he says the pain's getting worse…"

Without a word, he ran from his office and was gestured towards the bed of a young lad, in his twenties and took the injured arm in his hands.

"That's because, my dear, there's still a tooth in there!"

"What?"

"I was bitten by a thing on Rigel V… didn't think it was anything, so, you know, just bandaged it and that…"

"'Just bandaged it and that?' Are you being serious?"

"Aye, sir, didn't want to make a fuss, y'know…"

Speechless, O'Hara took the tooth out with what could only be described as pliers, and bandaged up the wound properly.

"Oh god, that's much better."

The doctor sat there for a while before looking at the nurse and then simply saying:

"How did you miss the feckin' tooth in your man's arm?"

"Well, sure, he didn't even tell me he was bitten, how'd you fancy that?" She smiled back at him, obviously taking the question lightly and in good humour.

'I am surrounded by crazy people' he thought quietly to himself as his monitor flashed to him as he'd just received a message.

He reread the message again, and then just once more to make sure he wasn't going mad.

"Chief Medical Officer, now, that has a ring to it" he said aloud, quietly relieved that perhaps he wouldn't be completely inundated with Rigelian bite marks whilst on board a nice clean ship… right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Operation: First Officer**

**Paris, France**

**Earth Date: 11 Jan 2245**

"Aieeee! Alors, il ne marche pas…"

Pierre recoiled back towards the lab bench, left hand clutched in his right; having worked on plant life for most of his Starfleet career, but really none the wiser since new species were popping up all of the time. Turns out this plant didn't want to be experimented on, and it knew how to use its needles. He was pretty sure this one wasn't too poisonous – he'd live to see another day.

The water washed over the small wounds on his fingers easily, eventually washing out the spines. With a sigh of relief, he turned to return to the plant, but the warming glow of his PADD, and the orange flashing message on the screen took his attention. A meeting at the Starfleet Scientific Headquarters, at 6pm today. Usually they gave a little more notice, but he didn't think anything of it. The admin side of this job were starting to grate on him a little. He just analysed bits or organic matter that managed to get back to Earth. It'd been too long since he'd set foot on a Starship. And then the paperwork to go with the mundane analysis down on Earth was stupendous.

He had been Lieutenant Commander Pierre Du Pont – Life Sciences Officer under Christopher Pike back in the early days. Starting out as a Cadet, he quickly showed his superiors up and was promoted at the ripe old age of 23. But, with promotion came fame and with fame came opportunities on Earth which at first sounded amazing. A heavy sigh and a brief glance out of the window to the street below followed this sobering thought. He was reaching 35 now… chances of getting out there again were small.

* * *

><p>Finishing up in the lab, he swung the door closed. Paris in the evening sun was famous for being beautiful… but not when it was pissing down with rain. Running through the tourists and making a beeline for the Headquarters (after grabbing a coffee for an extortionate amount of credits), he finally arrived at the electronic doors of the building and ducked into the hallway, looking like a drowned rat.<p>

"'av you got an appointment, monsieur?" the young woman at the reception desk eyed him suspiciously, looking him up and down – surely he can't be one of us!

"Yes, I 'ave an appointment mademoiselle," he made a move towards the lift before a muscly man appeared out of thin air and blocked the way. Smiling sheepishly, he dusted himself off and turned to the receptionist.

"You should know, sir, zat I would need to see your ID"

"Bien sur," he ruffled about in his coat to find the piece of plastic. Why on Earth they would need to see his ID when he needed a fingerprint scan to operate the lift, he would never know. He managed to produce his ID, much to the displeasure of the receptionist.

"Mr. Boulet"

"Mr. Du Pont"

"You 'ave been called 'ere today for a surprise, Monsieur…"

"A surprise?" Pierre took a chair on the other side of the desk and slumped down, folding his coat over his lap.

"I understand you are interested in going back into… ze final frontier, as it were," the older man chuckled to himself and leaned back in his chair.

"Mais oui, who would not like to go back?"

"Indeed… I suppose for someone like you, it is very important, non?"

A pregnant pause as Pierre tried to figure out the motive of the man sitting in front of him.

"Well, someone is a lucky man. Zhere is an opportunity for you, Pierre, on a ship. And not just any ship… and not just any position."

"I see."

"Perhaps it would be better to come from someone else…"

A silhouette of a man appeared in the doorway. Certainly not another Frenchman, Pierre thought. The way he stood, his open stature, the way he carried himself. All of this, and he hadn't even uttered a word. Coming out of the doorway, the stranger ambled into the room; a pale brunette with blue eyes.

"Hey there, how ya doin'?"

An American… Pierre stood up to shake his hand.

"Paul Andrews,"

"Pierre Du Pont"

"I've heard so much about you, your reputation precedes you" Paul tried to be as amiable as possible. After all, this man was going to be his first officer, his confidant, his right hand man… and he would run the ship if something were to happen to him.

"Very kind, monsieur, and you were also very renowned as Captain Matthews's first officer, non?"

"I don't think renowned is the word…" Paul laughed nervously.

The two men stood and looked at each other, in an awkward silence.

Finally Boulet stood up and gestured to the two men, breaking the silence.

"So, I need a First Officer for my ship, and I was wondering if you'd like to fill the void" Paul chuckled, still on edge.

"Indeed," Pierre stood, thinking for a while, before reminding himself of the majesty of the world outside of Earth, "I accept, Monsieur."

Paul clasped his hands together, smiling. Finally his crew was complete. Even if it was almost certainly going to have some 'growing' problems.

* * *

><p>Hope you like it. More chapters to come soon.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**USS Endeavour: Punch it**

**San Francisco **

**15 Jan 2245**

Never had Paul thought that sitting in the Captain's chair would fill him with so many mixed emotions. Sure, there was the element of pride and power that went with the chair. The sheer fact that it was in an area all of its own and was well equipped with buttons, switches, switches and lights galore meant that it had a sort of presence all of its own, and this definitely affected the person sitting in it. But it was true what they said. With great power comes great responsibility. Everyone looks to the chair for orders. You get one thing wrong and they can haul you in front of a judge and jury within the week, strip your captaincy, and strip all of your qualifications. There was that, and also the fact that these people trusted you with their very lives; their existence – all down to one man in a chair, and they were all willing to take that risk.

'Well, this is nice' Paul thought to himself, gripping the armrests and swiveling around. Faster and faster… 'fuck, I can't stop!' Jamming all of the buttons at once, he came flying off of the chair and into the console.

"Captain?" his French first officer looked disapproving at the man leaning over the console.

"Amazing ship, huh?" that trademark smile and nervous laugh came as the reply.

"I suppose you were just… finding out the ship's capabilities first hand, sir?" A raised eyebrow and one arm behind his back, the two men shared a look before Pierre strode out of the bridge doors and into the turbolift.

* * *

><p>After scanning the array of lights on the panel, it was obvious to Paul that there were only a couple of things he could do before his bridge crew came up and joined him for the mission at hand. Clicking the button for the in-ship communicator, Paul decided to check on how things were going. That's what captain's do, right? After a few years watching Matthews, Paul had a vague idea of what was expected to happen. But Matthews had style, presence… popularity. And Paul… well he had a smart-ass Frenchman as his second in command and a crew who hadn't met until today. Some of them hadn't even met yet. Well, we can't all have immediate glory… right?<p>

"Engineering, this is the Captain, are we all ready to take off?"

"Captain, Commander Donnelly here. All warp engines and impulse engines have just finished their testing; I'm ready to head towards the bridge whenever is convenient, sir," the soft British accent resonated through the comm systems. 'At least _she_ knows what she's doing' he thought to himself.

"Med Bay, are we all stocked up and ready?"

"Aye, Captain – all is well down here, coming up now" the Irish lilt said matter-of-factly.

"Okay…." Another button press later, and he simply sat waiting for his crew to come and join him.

Before he could even return to his thoughts, a tall Vulcan man strode onto the bridge, hands behind his back; his back straight and his eyes firmly on the Captain.

"Sorek! Commander" he instinctively held out a hand before retracting it. Looking at it funny and putting it in his pocket wouldn't look weird, right?

"Captain Andrews. I have filed the first status report in the ship's Science log. All instruments are correct and functioning, and all recording equipment has been checked accordingly."

"Well… Good work" he offered the taller man a smile and a nod. The response was one of… heck, who knows, but he didn't look too annoyed.

Before the conversation could go any further (as though it had that capability), a shorter figure poked her head out of the turbolift, a big smile peeking out onto the bridge. Paul practically leaped towards her, a human, another human – and one who wasn't so serious. A God-send.

"Ready for the voyage, Commander?"

"Absolutely, everything's in place, and it looks like that's where I'm sitting it out for the most part," she smiled and gestured to the chair next to the engineering console. He smiled back at her, before remembering that Sorek was watching him closely.

"I do not believe we have been formally introduced, Commander," he looked right past Paul to Ava.

"Indeed not, Commander. It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Chief Engineering Officer Ava Donnelly-Alexander," she bowed her head slightly and gave the Vulcan salute. Sorek mirrored the gesture and simply said: "I am Sorek of Vulcan," – 'no way!' Paul thought – "Chief Scientific Officer aboard this vessel."

The two Chief Officers looked at each other, Ava a picture of kindness and acceptance of all, and Sorek… well Paul was sure he was accepting of her too, it was hard not to be. A third man came bumbling through the doors, smiling, but obviously tired.

"And they said it's hard to get lost on a Starship!" he laughed to himself; Ava drew up a smile, as did Paul.

"This is Dr O'Hara," the captain turned to the two officers, arm wrapped around the shoulders of the Irishman.

"Indeed, we have met before, captain," Sorek chipped in, as Ava nodded in agreement. The doctor simply smiled and stood beside the captain's chair, beckoning him to sit down – they would be leaving soon.

Donnelly and Sorek sat at their respective posts as more cadets and lieutenants trickled in from the turbolift doors to take up the piloting, course plotting and communications. Finally, a Du Pont's figure stood on the other side of the captain.

"Course laid in to get this medical aid to Venga 4?"

"Yes sir, course already laid in"

Paul looked around his bridge to see the faces… and the backs of some heads of his crew. This was actually happening. It wasn't all just a dream. 'I am actually Captain. I AM CAPTAIN OF THI…'

"Captain, we 'ave been ready to leave for some time now, I suggest that we proceed?"

Yanked from his thoughts once again by his first officer, he cleared his throat and gestured to the pilot in front of him.

"Punch it"

* * *

><p>Reviews always welcome.<p>

Adventure on Venga 4... doesn't always go as planned... watch this space :)


	5. Chapter 5

**The Venga Star System**

"How long until we reach the Venga star system, Cadet?" Paul looked up at the young man in front of him; a tall, thin guy, blonde with blue eyes – obviously his first adventure out into the cosmos.

"Ummm… about 4 days' time, captain,"

Sorek looked up at that statement, no doubt internally incensed at the inaccuracy and lack of precision of his human counterparts – well at least that's what Paul would have predicted he would have been feeling, as a matter of fact, Sorek only looked on, nothing passing his lips before he turned back to his station.

"Good – as you were," the captain jumped up from his chair and made his way towards the turbolift, but not before flashing a smile at the Engineering console. But she didn't turn around… 'just act like nothing happened…'and he continued on to Med Bay to check on the cargo hauled up there.

The ship's corridors were a hustle and bustle of mainly new cadets, fresh out of the academy and the excitement in the air was thick and heady. Many of them were tripping over themselves to make room for the captain, or salute him, to which Paul simply said: "Now, that's not necessary…"

* * *

><p>Med Bay was quiet – as it always is at the start of any mission – with only the typing and computer whirring filling the air.<p>

Paul made his way to walk into the CMO's office, when he realised – a bit too late – that someone else was actually in the doorway.

"Woah! Hey there, fancy seeing you down here" Brendan beamed at him and gestured to him to sit in his office.

Turns out the cargo was in a 'very safe place'…

"No, actually, where is it?"

"I'll show you," the Dr offered with a smile.

Dr O'Hara led Paul through the sick bay of empty beds to a room on the far reaches of the floor. Opening it with his fingerprints, he revealed the metal boxes upon boxes of vaccines and medical equipment destined to help the plague ridden people of Venga 4. The captain's gaze wove around the room, his hand resting on the crates as the Dr carried on talking.

"Nasty disease – it'll have you dead in days. Came out of nowhere and suddenly it takes up a whole planet. Virus based – easily spreads, I mean, obviously, or we wouldn't be in this position," and with that note Brendan simply looked at Paul, grimacing at the thought of the people on the planet suffering. Paul just nodded idly. His knowledge of medical sciences was lacklustre – he didn't feel he could add anything of any worth to the discussion. It wasn't really up for debate.

"Apparently it leaves the children alive, though. Bastard thing. Leaves the children to watch their families die," the room seemed to get even vaster at that point. Brendan suddenly went quiet, but not a positive 'we're going to sort this out' quiet, a more contemplative and emotional silence, his eyes glazing over, unfocused, cast down to the floor.

"Well, at least it won't hurt any more people once we get there, eh?" the Captain tried to lighten the mood.

Seemingly not coming out of his present state, Brendan simply walked out of the room and back to his office without another word. Paul soon followed him out of the door and strode back up to the bridge, trying not to think about his CMO.

* * *

><p>The lights of the bridge seemed to gleam more so when he returned, whether or not that was because he'd left the sadness of the Med Bay behind, or simply because there was chatter here, he didn't know. But the bridge felt like the hub that it certainly should be. Settling back down into his chair, and sending both Ava and Sorek away for their breaks, he anticipated the next 3 and a half days to be fairly quiet. Well, one can always dream.<p>

A crackle from the communications station: "Captain, we are receiving a message from Venga IV"

"Patch the audio and visual to the screen, cadet"

"Yes, sir"

The screen in front of the bridge lit up with the faces of the people of Venga IV. Paul certainly wasn't prepared for what he saw. The people hailing him were not the ambassadors, or the members of Starfleet, but a group of survivors.

"Time is running out faster than expected Captain Andrews. Our scientists are trying to work on delaying the onset, but it appears the virus has entered into its lytic cycle. People are succumbing to it much more quickly than anticipated. If there is anything you can do to get the medicine here sooner, please do so…" the video crackled out with the audio being silenced. The bridge looked at up at the captain, expectantly waiting.

"That's the end of the transmission, sir"

"Thank you, Cadet," he turned to her slowly, before quickly turning banging down on his intercom "All Chief officers to go to conference room 3, deck 4, immediately, repeat ALL chief officers to conference room 3, deck 4, Andrews out."

Jumping up from his chair, he ordered Du Potn to take the bridge and made his way down to the room, to find the officers around the table waiting for him.

"Thank you," they all sat down, whilst he took the head chair, "We need to discuss Venga IV – you've all seen the audio-visual?" Paul looked at Sorek and Ava for confirmation, as they were absent at the time. All nodded.

"If I may, captain, I think we should get to the system as quickly as possible, whilst the vaccination will provide help for the children at any time, the treatment measures should be put in place as soon as we can," Ava started the conversation after some uneasy glances between officers. She then continued, "However, I believe it is essential for the medical and scientific professionals to give their views," she gestured to the Vulcan and the Irishman.

Brendan took the invitation, "I agree with Commander Donnelly, we need to get help there as soon as possible, inform Starfleet as an afterthought, change course to make it quicker," he looked back at Ava, "would the engines be able to maintain a high speed without draining the crystals this early on in the ship's life?"

"It would be able to withstand up to WARP 8 for a long period of time, WARP 10 for short bursts – I can reroute the circuits so that impulse power is tied in with the matter-antimatter reactor power,"

"Sorek?" the captain looked up at the pale man at the far edge of the table.

"Although it is indeed logical to get the medical supplies to those who are in most need of them as soon and as efficiently as possible, the current route which we have plotted out is undoubtedly the safest route to reach the system. To stray from this route would put our ship in danger and would put the medical supplies on the ship in jeopardy," he looked up at the people surrounding him, their eyes filled with confusion.

"I believe Commander Sorek is referring to the spate of Romulan ships seen in this area as of late. The course we have plotted in goes past various Starbases, so we could get help easily – but Romulan ships have been sighted and attacks reported not even a day's travel away from the route we are taking," Ava offered, nodding at the Vulcan on her left side. He seemed pleasantly surprised at her knowledge and understanding of his suggestion.

"So we might get attacked?"

"There is always a statistical probability of being attacked, Captain" Sorek offered instantaneously.

"Yeah, I know that, but I mean, an actual likelihood,"

Sorek frowned at this, before Ava whispered to him about human nature. He nodded and sat quietly.

"The Enterprise is in this sector, are they not?"

"Not precisely in this sector, captain, but they are fairly close," one of the pilots chipped in to the discussion.

"We could call on them for help if we were to get trapped,"

"Probability of us being successful in a conflict where we are outnumbered is lower than the statistical likelihood ought to be, captain; and the probability that the Enterprise would be able to come to our aid in the relevant period of time is also very low,"

"We'd be dead already,"

"I did not necessarily say that, doctor,"

Dr O'Hara piped up, finally finding his flair, "We need to help those people as fast as humanly possible,"

"That would not be very fast, Dr O'Hara," Sorek added, to receive a glare from Brendan.

"So we should let more people die on that planet, have children watch their parents die needlessly because you want to play it safe, who ever said about Vulcan courage?" Brendan stood up, and gestured for Sorek to do the same.

"Sorek isn't saying that, Dr," Ava sat between them, before Paul ordered Brendan to stand down.

"I do not want squabbling between my crew, is that quite clear?"

"Vulcans do not 'squabble', captain,"

"Don't sass me, Sorek!" Paul gazed down at his Science Officer, who opened his mouth to retaliate, but was again, told to be understanding and yield to human nature by the Engineering Officer. Illogical although it was, if it would avoid conflict at a period of heightened anxiety, a worthwhile goal at this point in time.

"Instead of using the different route, we will simply increase our speed, is that clear with everyone?"

"A logical solution, captain," "And one that will cost people their lives," Brendan added to Sorek's input as they all rose from the table.


	6. Chapter 6

Warp 7 and counting

Paul strode onto the bridge after the meeting and was followed swiftly by Ava and Sorek, heading towards their respective stations. Du Pont stood from the captain's chair and offered it to the silhouette of a man in front of him. After a pause, Paul stepped forward and slumped down into the chair, nodding at his first in command.

"I… trust ze meeting went well, Captain?" The Frenchman's blue eyes glistened as he stared at the captain and asked him, practically whispering. He had leant forward as to talk to him without too much interference with the others. The bridge didn't gleam quite as much this time. Finally the Captain responded.

"It was certainly an airing of opinions…"

"Ah, I see," Pierre inclined his head to the side, "It is a very sensitive issue; it is understandable."

"Yeah, I 'spose so…" Paul looked up and flicked his head around to the Engineering console, "Can you give me WARP 7, Commander?"

"Yes, captain," Ava typed animatedly on her console for a few seconds before swiping the information away to engineering. The red light switched to green after a few seconds.

"WARP speed, up to factor 7 ready at your command, Captain," she finished, revolving her chair around to face him, half smiling.

"Thank you, Commander," he nodded at her and ordered Lieutenant Foster, the pilot, to increase speed. He only hoped he'd get there in time.

"ETA at Venga IV?"

"2 Terran days, 14.2 solar hours, approximately, Captain," Sorek answered before Foster even understood the question.

"I only hope that's fast enough," Paul glanced at Sorek, then rose and left the bridge. He had a bad feeling about the mission, and the last thing he wanted to do was to project that on his crew. Du Pont didn't call after him, but simply sat down in the vacated seat and called upon Engineering for a report on their systems. All he could do was worry… worry and wait.

"RED ALERT. ALL STATIONS ON RED ALERT, ALL HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS."

The Captain jerked up out of his bed and practically fell out of his quarters, running to the bridge. He was about to confront Du Pont for not calling him sooner, when he saw it on the view screen. A Romulan battle cruiser. The sheer audacity of bringing a ship like that this far into Federation territory was unbelievable. They must be so sure that they would not be captured, which could only mean one of two things: their commander had promptly gone mad and had waged a premptive out and out war with the Federation, or they had something deadly on board which would protect them from Federation attack.

Swinging himself into the Captain's chair, information about what little they knew about the vessel came trickling in from people on the bridge and over the intercom system. Surely the cruiser had seen them by now? Or had the nearby planet's magnetism saved them from being detected?

"Commander, can they see us?" he faced Sorek.

"I believe so, Captain. But they have not yet prepared to fire any detectable weapons… interesting."

"Oh yes, couldn't agree more, fascinating!" Paul choked out in disbelief, before turning in his chair to face the screen once more, "Harrison, have all phaser banks ready, we're going to attack."

A crackle of sound resounded from the communications console, the young man manning it desperately trying to gauge the channels correctly as to create a better transmission. His hands swept over the device deftly, making alterations here and there, anything to stop the crackling and make something out of the message they were being sent. Suddenly a face appeared on the screen. A Romulan face.

"Captain Andrews, I presume?" At first sight, they could be mistaken for Vulcans, but the more Paul looked at this man, the more un-Vulcan he became. He had the pointed ears and eyebrows, yes, but none of the steady rhythm in the voice or their manners. This man was particularly happy with himself and not afraid of displaying this emotion for all to see.

"This is Captain Andrews of the USS Endeavour, acting on behalf of the United Federation of Planets. What are you doing in Federation Space? State your name, the name of your vessel and your intention."

The bridge fell silent. Not only had the communication between the two ships fallen silent, but the bridge personnel all gaped at the view screen for so much as a glimpse of the Romulan again, simply to really take in what the situation was.

"Shields up" the Captain broke the silence by handing this command to Cdr. Donnelly at her post.

"Aye, sir. Shields are up and fully functional."

Just as the words were leaving her mouth, a jolt travelled through the ship, accompanied with a bright flash of light. Most of bridge crew were incapacitated, falling to the floor, their bodies heavy on the metal. The only three remaining were the Captain himself, Sorek and Ava.

"Their new weapon," Paul breathed out, barely a whisper as realization hit him.

"It appears to be a new type of photon torpedo, Captain."

"Our phasers could still cause damage to their ship. A weapon like that must drain some sort of battery source, if we can divert the power from the torpedo, we may have a chance at saving the ship," Ava replied, her voice steady, calming, even reassuring as she knelt on the floor where she took cover from the jolt.

"I agree with Commander Donnelly. This appears to be the only logical solution."

Paul silently agreed and pointed Ava over to the main piloting and weapons console. Sorek stood by the Engineering console, stepping into her usual place. Crawling up to the captain's chair, he gave the order to fire the phasers at one of the main engines. Accurate as ever, the beam hit the engine, no doubt through one powerful shield.

"Direct hit, but with minimal damage. Easily reparable, Captain," Sorek warned, looking over the ship's plan on the computer screen.

"The torpedoes. We need to fire the photon torpedoes," he looked at Ava, who seemed to know what he was hinting at immediately. She looked at Sorek, and then nodded, climbing effortlessly down the shaft to engineering. She was the only one conscious able to load the torpedo bays.

"Do you surrender, Captain Andrews?" the same smug face beamed down at the captain, clasping onto the armrests of his chair.

"The Federation does not surrender to terrorists." Determination – especially when defeat was imminent – was one of his stronger points.

"Your ship and crew will be utterly destroyed. I hope you know this,"

"I am aware of your military capabilities,"

"You believe you are aware, Andrews. On another note, I am also aware that your Science Officer is sending our coordinates to the nearest Starbase. We will be long gone by then, I am afraid. And so will you,"

The screen flickered back to the view of the oncoming Romulan ship.

"Advice Mr. Sorek?"

"We are in a compromised position at the present time, Captain,"

"No shit, Sherlock!" Paul audibly sighed, before regaining his composure, "I'm sorry Sorek. I was thinking about obtaining some more hopeful advice."

A few seconds of silence, Sorek rose to the Engineering console and pointed at the flashing green light on the dashboard.

"I believe Commander Donnelly has most efficiently loaded the torpedoes, Captain."

"I love you, Sorek." Paul laughed as he leapt to the weapons console, ignoring the completely bemused face of his Science Officer behind him.

Firing the torpedoes directly around the engines, Paul managed to break through the shield, successfully disabling one of the engines, leaving only one working. But even then, they could still be attacked. The Romulan vessel, did not move. The shields were up, but only just functional. A lucky hit and Paul wasn't in any position to waste power and 'finish the job'.

"I am afraid I do not reciprocate your amorous intentions, Captain," Sorek seemed anxious to clarify.

"I'm quite aware, Mr. Sorek. Warp speed over the Romulan vessel. Warp 8 to Venga IV. The crew should be coming around soon enough."

The doors slid open to the silhouette of a certain woman before she returned silently to her station. Finally…

"Good work, Commander."

She just smiled.


End file.
